


hold my bones together

by harumeno



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Agender Chara (Undertale), Agender Frisk (Undertale), Alternate Timelines, Character Study, Character Undeath, Doomed Timelines, Gen, POV Second Person, Some blood slash violence but nothing extreme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 09:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harumeno/pseuds/harumeno
Summary: The timelines flicker. Or, Frisk's resets get out of control.





	hold my bones together

**Author's Note:**

> gonna be real- i played undertale for the first time like a week ago. how well this holds up to canon i don't know, but i take liberties with everything. enjoy.

The timelines flicker.

‘Flicker’ seems like the right word, at least. Back and forth like a sliver of candlelight, never solid, never fully there.

It’s made you tired. All this, back and forth like a sick carousel ride. Memories blur and blend until you can’t remember which minuscule detail leads to which timeline. Where are you now? You can’t put it together.

Maybe all this jumping around the universe is what’s made you so lazy- all these shifts back and forth through time and space, ragged and unending.

Maybe that’s just an excuse you picked up. You don’t remember.

So it stings whenever Papyrus chastises you for sleeping on the job, but for the wrong reasons. It stings because he doesn’t know, doesn’t realize how many times he’s woken up in Snowdin on that cursed day.

How many? You’ve lost count.

You wish they would stop resetting. But Frisk is, for lack of a better term, filled with determination. Determined to keep playing this out, over and over, to see individual details in the disaster they leave in their wake.

The worst timelines are when they let you reach the sunlight, if only because you know they’ll rip it away only moments later.

No, no, that’s wrong.

The  _ worst _ timelines are…

No.

You don’t think about those.

  
  


You wake up in Snowdin after blood. Your vision takes a few moments to clear, as always. 

Papyrus is downstairs, cooking a pot of spaghetti. The warm scent drifts up through the vents, and yet you’re still colder than ever.

There’s static in your ears. The tornado in your room keeps on whirling.

When you finally go downstairs, Papyrus gives you a larger portion of spaghetti than normal. There’s something in his voice, some volt of concern that he can’t bring himself to voice.

You tell him he’s getting better at cooking. The concern fades.

Despite everything, you’re not a very good liar. Fortunately (or unfortunately. You don’t know), Papyrus has yet to pick up on it.

Frisk comes back today. You don’t want to see them again.

You steady your hands.

  
  


You lurk between the trees near the Ruins. Frisk’s exit is slow and filled with trepidation.

As you inch closer, you can sense fear. They haven’t killed anyone.

Once, that was a relief. You’re not sure when it stopped being one.

Still. You have to protect the kid, don’t you? If you don’t, especially at this stage… Frisk will be struck down.

(Thanks, Toriel. And screw you.)

You make your approach for the thousandth time.

  
  


After everything, they kill Asgore alone.

You can’t even be mad. You’ve seen worse.

  
  


And then you wake up again.

  
  


One or two monsters fell to their hand this time, you can tell. Toriel is still alive, bless her heart and damn her conscience. It’s not enough to abandon your promise.

Frisk seems calm.

It’s unsettling.

  
  


Later, they kill Undyne. You tell Papyrus she’s on vacation and alter your judgement yet again.

  
  


For some reason, Frisk often resets without completing their journey. It’s annoying.

There are times when you wake up in Snowdin six times within the same morning, because they just can’t seem to make up their mind how homicidal they’ll be this time.

_ That’s not fair. They’re a kid. _

_ Is it unfair, though? _

Part of you hates watching them make nice with everyone they see, knowing that you’ve seen Frisk slaughter all of them countless times. The rest of you finds some sick comfort in it.

Why the hell they keep doing this, you can’t figure out.

Some sort of grim satisfaction? But of what? And you’re tired.

And that’s not a lie.

  
  


Frisk exits the Ruins stained with blood. 

This is the worst timeline, you know, and you’re really in for it now. Your engagements with them are short and curt. 

You’re not ready. Already, you can taste decay in your mouth. Maybe you should warn Alphys now, get her to evacuate while there’s still a chance for most of the Underground.

You don’t.

She wouldn’t answer the phone anyways.

  
  


You must be some kind of masochist, because you linger in the woods just before Frisk appears to take down Papyrus.

They’ve wiped out Snowdin, robbed the shops, and scared the daylights out of poor Monster Kid.

So, you know what comes next. Still, you can’t bear to leave. Not when this is the last time you’ll see your brother, at least until the next reset.

“I STILL BELIEVE IN YOU.”

You think your SOUL breaks a little more every time you have to hear him say that.

Frisk reaches for their knife

and drops it.

They sink into the snow, tears rolling down their face as horror sets into their expression.

Papyrus kneels in front of them and hugs them close, rubbing their back and whispering something you can’t make out.

This would be more heartwarming if you’d never seen Frisk decapitate Papyrus without blinking. If you’d never seen them crunch his skull with their shoes. If you hadn’t seen this hug before.

But credit where credit’s due. You thank Frisk at the Waterfall post for sparing him.

Thankfully, they don’t kill anyone else.

  
  


This time.

  
  


On their next run, they slaughter everything in their path, actively seeking out all the monsters hiding from them.

The only one they spare is Papyrus.

You hate that it means anything to you.

  
  


Kill Toriel and Mettaton. Kill Toriel and Undyne. Kill only Mettaton. Kill only smaller monsters. Kill Undyne and Mettaton. Kill everything in their path until Hotland. Let everyone live until the reset. Kill only Toriel.

You stop trying to figure out their algorithm of who they’ll hurt. It’s tiring.

  
  


They kill Papyrus.

  
  


They  _ only  _ kill Papyrus.

  
  


The next time Frisk exits the ruins, you kill them in the snow without reading their expression. Toriel’s promise be damned.

Their blood stains the snow, but the adrenaline lasts only a second. In the next, you wake up in Snowdin.

  
  


Yeah, why you thought that would work is beyond you. Killing Frisk never does anything.

(You kind of wish it did.)

  
  


“why?” You ask, just once, in the true sunlight.

Frisk says nothing. 

You wake up in Snowdin. Not like it’s a surprise anymore.

  
  


Sometimes, tying Papyrus’ scarf around your neck is the only reason you get through the worst runs.

  
  


Sometimes, you text Alphys to pass time. It’s kind of a nice comfort, her presence. 

She’s the biggest liar you know, after yourself.

She talks about Mew Mew, and after this many resets, you kind of have a handle on what she’s saying, though the appeal still eludes you.

At least it makes her happy. Nothing really makes you happy anymore.

You wonder if Alphys knows about the resets. She doesn’t seem to be aware of the shifting timelines, but she’s smart; smart enough that she can see the tiny nuances in your expression, enough to know you’re keeping a lot underneath.

Smart enough to stop asking about the defunct machinery in your shed.

You let her ramble on and on, and for a moment, you can pretend that you can’t feel Frisk tugging on the timeline once more.

  
  


You throw Alphys the phone. Frisk let just one monster live in Hotland, and that is apparently some kind of indicator of humanity.

They’re not human. Not really.

Alphys practically spits into the receiver as she finishes the call.

“I really should have killed you when I had the chance.”

For a moment, there’s a jolt of catharsis. It all fades away when you wake up in Snowdin again.

  
  


Alphys calls - and that’s the first warning sign - you to say that she “met the human” and they were “scared” of her. She’s confused.

(Frisk hasn’t killed anyone yet.)

Can they remember her animosity from previous timelines? No, they  _ must _ remember. They wouldn’t keep resetting if they couldn’t remember.

You tell Alphys that they’re shy. It placates her.

Maybe you’re a better liar than you give yourself credit for.

  
  


Gaster, may he rest in misery, was at least good with ray guns. You still feel a chill as Frisk drops dead in front of you.

It’s not supposed to be cold in the last corridor. 

You take a few seconds to catch your breath before they reset.

  
  


They fall for your stunt and you stab them through the back. Reset.

  
  


They finally get you and you hit the floor. Whatever. In less than five minutes, they’ll reset.

They always do. Can’t bear to sell their soul.

Or lack thereof.

  
  


You kind of miss not hating this kid.

  
  


Frisk performs neatly, killing no monsters, though their hands aren’t clean. You’ve been watching, you know they’ve been beating monsters to an inch of their lives, then sparing them.

It’s fear. It’s sickening.

And you still can’t figure out what the hell they’re doing.

They screw up and kill a citizen in Hotland. Undyne screams curses over the phone, and berates herself for ever befriending a murderer.

You can only close your eyes at that. Papyrus is still wounded from this run. You place a hand on his weak shoulders as reality clouds over. 

Just once, you’d like to forget with everyone else.

  
  


You unlock the shed. It’s just as dusty as the day you left it, the gray particles covering every surface.

Good thing skeletons can’t sneeze, or something. You still find yourself hesitant to put your head too close to the cabinets.

The broken machine mocks you from under its curtain. You glare back at it, hoping the silent laughter will cease.

Damn Gaster.

You open the drawers unconsciously. The photo album looks like the cover’s been eaten slightly.

Then, at the bottom, a sloppy sketch in red and green crayon. You hate that they’re all smiling in this picture.

_ don’t forget. _

You look at the machine again. There’s no going back. A few times, you let Alphys in to look at it, but even your combined efforts were fruitless.

_ Damn _ Gaster.

Ah. But it’s rude to talk about someone who’s listening.

  
  


The music in MTT Resort feels extra sombre today. Long shadows line the floors, covering the room in icy nausea.

Frisk looks uncomfortable. Or you think they do. Their eyes are glazed and unfocused, like the after effects of a storm.

Maybe it’s guilt.

You try to play it cool. Offer congratulations for having not killed anyone, because apparently that’s something worth celebrating at this damn point, as if not being a murderer is  _ hard. _

“but if it hadn’t been for that promise…  _ you’d be dead where you stand.” _

It’s hypocritical, you suppose. Your bony hands are covered in unseen blood too.

“Sorry,” Frisk says eventually, a ragged tension in their voice.

They’re shaking. There’s something wrong with their disposition this time.

Is their constant time travelling stressing them out? Maybe it’ll be enough to make them finally  _ stop. _

You don’t even care about escape. You just want this damn day to stop repeating.

(Want your friends to stop dying.)

Finally, you get up and leave. Apparently, you’re not going to get much else out of them besides a half hearted apology.

“take care of yourself, kid. because someone really cares about you.”

It’s not you anymore. You wish it could be.

  
  


Everything’s right on track. Soon, you’ll reach the surface, just so that Frisk can rip it away from you. 

Maybe you won’t even leave this time. Not much point.

Toriel tells them to say their goodbyes now, and they rush out, eyes alight with a fire you haven’t seen in a long time.

When they return, their movements are sluggish, and unexplainable bitterness in their expression.

Frisk doesn’t even let everyone walk out. But they do look at you for a moment.

“Again. Sorry.”

And in seconds you awaken in Snowdin to Papyrus and his spaghetti quiche.

  
  


“okay. what gives.”

The orange light in the last corridor casts darkness over Frisk’s face, hiding their eyes. 

You don’t even bother with judgement. They’ve heard every single witty tidbit you could ever offer.

It seems like Frisk is just going to reload without ever answering. They’re still shaking, but you don’t dare put a hand on their shoulder. They killed Toriel this time.

“Asriel,” they finally croak, “I want him to come to the real world.”

You’d raise an eyebrow if you had one.

Frisk says, “He won’t leave Chara’s- the flowers. I know… I can convince him… But I need-“

“the right timeline,” you finish, “and that’s why you won’t stop resetting.”

Frisk nods, “I know I can find it. And I don’t want to stop until I do.”

Is it possible? You made the wrong judgement on the kid? There’s no malice in their eyes now.

“Please… I might have it right this time,” Frisk murmurs.

You sigh, and move aside. Kid’s more noble than you gave them credit for.

“Thank you. Sorry,” Frisk adds.

“don’t kill my brother again,” you mutter.

Frisk hesitates.

“I won’t let it happen,” they finally say.

Weird way to phrase it. You let them go, though.

All to save Asriel, huh? You stick your hands in your pockets and lean back against the stained glass.

You only realize how much  _ bullshit _ they just fed you when you wake back up in Snowdin.

  
  


“so you think i’m stupid too.”

You stop Frisk right outside the Ruins. Screw niceties, this is a goddamn war.

They halt on the bridge, something flaring in their eyes.

“you’re  _ slaughtering _ innocent monsters because you want to  _ save _ asriel?” You close your eyes, “you know he only makes a comeback if you don’t harm anyone.”

“It’s not like that,” Frisk says.

There’s blood and dust on their hands. Something in their expression is unsteady.

You say, “then what is it like?”

Frisk hesitates. They glance over their shoulder a few times, as if they’re looking for someone.

You take a step closer and they take a step back.

This continues until they fall off the bridge.

You sigh as the violent crack of their skull echoes up from the chasm below. There’s not even time to sit down before the timeline is ripped from under your feet like a rug.

  
  


They avoid you.

That’s fine.

  
  


Right?

  
  


...

  
  


At least they always spare Papyrus from this point.

  
  


“just give up. i did.”

They don’t listen.

  
  


_ go to hell  _ is all you can think to say when they trudge into the last corridor, dragging their bloodied leg behind them.

There’s no expression on their face. It’s all horrifyingly empty.

“why did you climb mount ebott in the first place,” is what you end up saying, with no discernible tone.

Frisk stares at you for a moment, then a twisted grin flickers onto their face, “Couldn’t have asked that a few resets ago? I don’t know the answer.”

“the hell does-“

“You’d have to ask Frisk,” they reply nonchalantly.

You examine their face. There’s something different again, it’s-

The eyes.

“chara,” you greet, “how long have you been there?”

Chara replies, “From the beginning. They landed on my grave, you know. I’m always following Frisk, trying to guide them in the right direction. Didn’t work at first. But their will is weaker now.”

You move closer. They draw a knife.

Alright.

“and the right direction is murder?”

Chara sighs, “You’re thinking about it wrong. Everyone should stay in the Underground… Humanity is too cruel.”

“says the human who keeps killing our entire population,” you point out.

“I’m not your enemy,” Chara says, “Or Frisk’s. I might only be a spectre, but they’re… complicit with me.”

“you said your will was stronger than theirs,” you respond.

Chara spins the knife, “Doesn’t mean they’re powerless against me. Why do you think we’ve been sparing your idiot brother recently? It’s their stupid conscience.”

Your hands scrape the insides of your hoodie’s pocket, “so who have i been talking to?”

“Depends,” Chara says, “Me, them, both at the same time… Does it matter? We’re essentially the same at this point.”

You continue to stare straight, “just curious about what one of you said about asriel.”

“That was Frisk,” Chara looks away, “They really do want to save him.”

“and you don’t?”

“He wasn’t  _ that _ great of a brother,” Chara sighs, “But don’t take that the wrong way. I  _ am _ protecting him.”

You still wish you had an eyebrow to raise, “i fail to see how.”

Chara hunches their shoulders, “Don’t you get it? He’ll just revert back to that damn sunflower if we let him leave.”

They’re chewing on their lip, “Frisk doesn’t understand either.”

“i can see your point,” you concede, “but there’s no chance i’ll let you continue on like this. i kinda prefer it when my friends are alive.”

Chara folds their arms, “And what are  _ you  _ going to do? I know your game, you don’t interfere until it’s too late.”

You close your eyes, “i’m gonna give you a bad time.”

“Mm, already? I was enjoying having a body again,” Chara remarks.

You open one eye and bathe them in blue light. They grin.

You lunge forwards.

  
  


At least you have some idea what you’re dealing with now. As spaghetti fills the house, you stretch out for your phone.

_ [hypothetically could you perform an exorcism] _

Alphys responds in less time than it takes you to press ‘send.’

_ [uhhh sure lol? there was one on episode 16 of Mew Mew so i know the theory!!!] _

_ [why? is mettaton up to something?] _

This is it, huh. The point of no return.

_ [long story. next five hours of your life free?] _

  
  


Alphys takes the whole “time travel” debacle a lot better than you expected, especially considering you had to give her the rushed and condensed version.

She agrees to your plan too, which is all fine and good as long as they stay in a stable timeline. If Frisk exits the Ruins covered in dust, then there’s no choice but to abort. 

Good to get the story out, though. Your bones have been starting to crack and sag under the weight of it all.

Plus, you’ll have to tell Papyrus some day. When (if) they escape the Underground for good. Not that the possibility of escape has felt strong for quite some time.

_ focus.  _

It’s almost time for Frisk’s appearance. You can only pray that they’ll be able to hold Chara back until they reach Alphys’ lab.

Even one slip up, one mistake will cost everything.

As they finally emerge from the darkness, they immediately stumble. They’re clean, but the look in their eyes is far from calm. Frisk is tugging at their sleeves with intensity, shaking with mania.

Lights, camera, action.

_ [engage] _

  
  


You follow from a distance. Frisk is holding themself together, though just by a few strands. Every step they take is fearful and skittish, as though all their energy is elsewhere.

And… probably is.

They don’t dare fight. Most monsters leave them be, though, noticing how weak they are.

They also might notice you in the shadows with a glare. If anything happens to Frisk, they’re all screwed.

Papyrus is worried about them and tells you as much. You ask him to try to watch over them.

“great royal guard training.”

Papyrus, being himself, takes this to heart. Which is one less thing you have to worry about.

Frisk calls him every couple minutes anyways. Their hands and voice shake less when Papyrus is on the line.

That’s good. Progress is being made.

Which makes Undyne this route’s only issue. And a  _ massive _ one at that. On one hand, it’s great that she follows her own instincts and won’t stand down.

On the other, she could easily kill Frisk while they’re in this state. And you really don’t want to go through this damn day again. It’s been a million times too many as it is.

If worse comes to worst, you’ll just have to step in. Not that you want to play the starring role, far from it, but the situation is too dire to be a supporting character.

For whatever reason, Undyne does seem to hold back during their fight, even stopping completely each time Frisk falls uselessly to their knees.

Papyrus stays on the phone the whole fight, offering encouragement and advice. You doubt Undyne really appreciates it, but you do. And that might be the only thing that allows Frisk to stand back up.

Later, when eavesdropping on yet another conversation, Undyne admits that she ‘didn’t really try’ at Alphys’ request.

You find yourself letting out a bitter chuckle. Even chaotic fish monsters have soft spots, it seems.

  
  


Just before you enter the lab, Alphys fires a few texts your way.

_ [give us a few minutes o~o] _

_ [they’re not doing well] _

Yeah, as expected. You lean on the wall near the door and count the seconds, because there’s nothing else you really  _ can _ do. Besides count your own bones. But that just stupid.

After a good quarter of an hour, you fire a  _ ‘ten seconds’  _ warning text to Alphys. She doesn’t respond.

When you enter the lab, you don’t see them immediately. The low wattage light bulbs flicker, flicker like the unstable timelines you’re trapped between.

“-climb Mount Ebott?” You hear Alphys ask as you get deeper inside.

They’re sitting on the floor against the wall. Frisk has their face buried in their knees, while Alphys is beside them, rubbing circles on their back.

It’s almost motherly, which is weird. Where the hell did she learn that? Toriel? She didn’t know her well. Papyrus? That just seems wrong.

It wasn’t Undyne, and it  _ definitely _ wasn’t you. Maybe it’s instinct. Or anime. You prefer the former.

“Wanted to disappear,” Frisk mumbles, “Didn’t work.”

Alphys hums, gently stroking their arm as you stop in front of them.

“hi. kid, alphys,” you greet, “how are things?”

Frisk looks up, and for a moment, you think they’re about to cry. Instead, they croak, “They’ve… been worse,  _ tibia _ honest.”

“puns aren’t gonna win me over. but thanks for trying,” you try to sound mad, but you can’t bear to even raise your voice. Frisk might shatter.

You tilt slightly, “how much did alphys tell you?”

“Not a lot,” Frisk says, “Something about an exorcism.”

Alphys says, “That’s the… t-the gist of it.”

“are things prepared?” you ask.

Alphys wrings her hands, “S-Sort of. Um, the issue… issue is… For an exorcism to be completely successful, t-there needs to b-be a place for the vengeful spirit to go.”

You pause, “a vessel?”

“Y-Yes,” Alphys says, “I believe I h-have something, but…”

She gestures to a vaguely humanoid hunk of metal on the table, “This is one of Mettaton’s scrapped bodies. I k-kept it around in case of e-emergency…”

“you want to give a dangerous ghost a body,” you say flatly.

Alphys wrings her hands again, but Frisk interrupts whatever she might have said.

“Chara isn’t dangerous.”

“kid,” you close your eyes, “that is an argument you’re going to lose.”

“They’re not,” Frisk insists, “They’re not a bad person, they’re just… upset. And scared. And confused.”

“and violent,” you remind them, “they’ve slaughtered the entire underground, time and time again.”

Frisk tugs on their sleeves, “That… wasn’t all them.”

Alphys says gently, “Don’t blame yourself for that either.”

Frisk mutters, “We’re both the problem, Sans. You can’t fault them entirely… They just need help.”

You sigh, “what makes you so sure?”

“Whose head have they been living in?” Frisk replies weakly.

Kids. So stubborn. You remember when Papyrus was small.

Alphys jumps in, “I-In any case! Chara will be undoubtedly weaker w-with a different host. And we need to get th-them out… out of Frisk’s head.”

You can accept that. You dig your finger bones inside your pockets as Alphys guides Frisk to an operating table.

You can’t make yourself watch.

  
  


Frisk is still weak and shaking afterwards. Alphys wraps them up in an orange blanket and lets them sit in a plush armchair.

You watch them for a bit, but train your attention towards the vessel. Alphys might need back up.

“They’re g-going to take a few minutes to wake,” Alphys says quietly, “D-Don’t do anything, or say anything to agitate them.”

“stand back and shut up,” you translate.

Alphys doesn’t respond to that. You cast another glance at Frisk, who seems to have fallen asleep in the blanket cocoon. 

Suddenly, the vessel - or Chara, you suppose they are now - sits up boltright. 

“Where- what-“

Alphys smiles, “Hello, Chara. U-Um, I hope you don’t mind, but-“

“we exorcised your soul and put it in a new shell,” you interrupt. Alphys looks nervous.

Chara blinks a few times, moving their hands slightly, “Why… the hell would you…”

You reply, “because you were this close to shattering frisk. and we really need you to stop killing monsters.”

Chara tears at their synthetic hair, “I… I don’t…”

Alphys moves in between you two and rubs their back. You step back and watch with scrutiny.

As she talks to them, speaking gentler than you thought she knew how, you pull out your phone and text Papyrus.

He’s been worried about Frisk. You sigh. Your brother has too kind a heart.

  
  


Frisk sleeps for two days. Chara spends that time getting used to their new body, clinging to Alphys as she guides them around the lab.

You flicker in and out like a shadow, never remaining long. It feels weird to hover inside, especially because you scarcely belong.

Is it alright to be bitter?  _ yes, it is,  _ you tell yourself, but if it’s alright, guilt shouldn’t seep into your stomach the way it does.

You wonder if one of Grillby’s drinks could make the feeling go away, but you don’t dare ask him. No matter what the answer was, it would end poorly.

It seems like it might be better if you stopped checking in. Stopped arriving at the lab, because the world can function just the same without you, can’t it?

Maybe you’ll pull a Gaster. Old bastard at least knew how to make an exit.

  
  


Chara stays behind with Alphys when Frisk finally has the energy to keep traversing through Hotland. You stay too, kind of. You say it’s to take some weight off of Alphys’ shoulders, but the truth is clear.

You worry that Chara will kill her if you’re not around. It’s not like you don’t have good reason to be worried, even if Alphys and Frisk insist they’re safe.

Neither of them saw the look in Chara’s eyes in the judgement hall. That’s not something you can shake.

Chara ignores you most of the time. You suspect that they don’t like you. Which, well, is completely fair. A mutual distrust.

The first time they speak to you, their voice is strained and clipped.

“Did Alphys really make Flowey?”

Now there’s a name that makes you tense up. If only you could convince Papyrus to stop talking to that thing.

They’re looking at you expectantly.

You half answer, “i think that’s a question for the royal scientist herself.”

Chara scowls, but doesn’t challenge you. They know you’re right.

When Alphys reappears from wherever lizards go, Chara marches up to them and frowns.

Alphys tenses and shoots a glance at you. You say nothing.

“Did you make Flowey? Did you turn my brother into a sunflower?” They ask.

“Buttercup,” Alphys squeaks. 

It’s worse than a direct confession. Chara stares at the floor.

None of them speak for a while.

  
  


Papyrus throws the door open, potentially destroying the hinges. You feel tension grow in your bones.

“ALPHYS! THE HUMAN REQUIRES OUR ASSISTANCE! I AM HERE TO- SANS?”

This is about to get weird.

“hey, bro,” you greet as casually as you can, “just checking in with my favourite royal scientist.”

Papyrus scratches his chin, “I SEE! WELL, THE HUMAN NEEDS OUR STRENGTH TO FACE KING DREEMURR, SO I THINK… HM?”

His eyes land on Chara, who looks like they’re about to be sick. He tilts his head, “AND WHO ARE YOU?”

“Ch-Chara,” they croak, hands shaking at their sides.

Papyrus gasps, “WHAT? SANS, ALPHYS… YOU MADE A NEW FRIEND WITHOUT ME?!”

_ how do i respond to this…? _

Alphys thankfully saves the day, “It wasn’t anything personal. Chara’s just been too weak to stand.”

Chara nervously adds, “Papyrus, right?”

“YOU KNOW WHO I- OF COURSE YOU KNOW THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He cuts himself off and kneels down in front of Chara with a smile, “FUTURE MEMBER OF THE ROYAL GUARD!”

Chara tugs at their hair, “A-Ah… Yeah.”

Papyrus says, “ARE YOU A HUMAN? THAT’S FANTASTIC! I KNOW ANOTHER HUMAN NAMED FRISK. I’LL HAVE TO INTRODUCE-“

“We’ve met,” Chara mumbles.

Papyrus looks up, “DID  _ EVERYONE _ MAKE A NEW FRIEND WITHOUT ME?”

Nobody in the room responds.

  
  


On the way to New Home, Papyrus draws back slightly to reach your side. He’s been keeping pace with Chara, chattering to them aimlessly.

Now though, there’s something in his expression. You don’t like it.

“SANS…” he whispers, or at least attempts to, “IS CHARA NOT THE DECEASED CHILD OF THE ROYAL FAMILY?”

“in a sense,” you say, “it’s kind of complicated.”

“SO HOW-“

You tighten your fists, “think similar to mettaton. ghost possessing a metal shell.”

Papyrus frowns, “THAT ISN’T COMPLICATED.”

“no,” you agree, “the rest of the story is.”

But that’s a tale for another timeline. New Home is within reach.

  
  


Chara and Flowey make eye contact.

He falters.

Neither of them even glance at their parents.

  
  


“I still want Asriel to leave the Underground with us,” Frisk murmurs.

Chara grabs their hand, “And I still… think that’s a bad idea.”

There’s silence all around besides them. Toriel looks like she’s in shock. Asgore himself has collapsed.

You hover in the nearby darkness, cursed to do nothing but watch. Papyrus is talking to Alphys and Undyne, none of them feeling the same horror still rushing through your bones.

Will any of this matter in the end? The threat of a reset hangs over your head.

You don’t think you can do this again.

  
  


You’re allowed to see the sunlight. Your bones ease in the heat, but you can’t completely let go of the fear.

Your dirty little room in Snowdin could be all that waits for you.

You lean against Papyrus as you stand near the edge of the cliff, when you hear a pair of footsteps.

Frisk is carrying Asriel - no, he’s reverted back to Flowey - in a small clay flower pot. Chara is walking beside them, casting glances at their former brother.

There’s a heavy bout of silence. You don’t dare be the one to break it.

Frisk comes up behind you and whispers, “Never again. That’s the last time, I swear.”

You nod slowly. 

You don’t believe them.

  
  


You and Papyrus rent a loft in a small neighbourhood. Toriel takes in Frisk, Chara, and the living flower pot, and they have a small home nearby. Alphys and Undyne get an apartment in the city.

Asgore goes somewhere far away. He sends postcards sometimes, but Toriel never asks about him.

It’s weird. You were never allowed this comfort this long. Every time you wake up, you have to look at the room twice; the second to make sure you’re in the loft.

The first is just to confirm that you aren’t back in Snowdin.

You talk to Grillby a lot. He’s flipping burgers in a backwater fast food restaurant until he can get another license. He’s easy to be around.

Alphys is okay. She kind of understands, and does her best to ease your fears. Undyne is a nice distraction from the whirlwind in your brain.

Toriel is confusing, because while you appreciate her kindness, you can never really see her in the same light, knowing that she would die for the kids you murdered.

And Papyrus is the most important part of your life. But you still can’t make yourself talk about the other timelines with him. 

Frisk is still saving and reloading. Never a full reset, never that cruel, but they refuse to let go of that power. When you and Papyrus visit for butterscotch and cinnamon pie, you find yourself unable to look at them.

Chara always leaves the room when you enter, so you at least don’t have to worry about them.

  
  


You never wake back up in Snowdin.

Sometimes, though, you almost wish you would.


End file.
